Friday, 24 February 2017

Let's swing...

Yesterday, my bird table finally died a sad death on the lawn.  I am blaming that harridan Storm Doris for this, but to be honest, as the bird table has been without three legs for the last year after the last 'huffin' and puffin' episode, I think that it has been living on what is commonly known as 'borrowed time' since then.  It's very sad though, as this was a present from the husband many years ago, and he had a hand of some sort in its construction.  Needless to say, I will continue blaming Doris rather than his handiwork...

It was week three of Swing Club on Wednesday evening.  I was dreading it, as I really hadn't got to grips with the steps the week before, and I was worried that the teachers may 'build' on what was learned last week.  But oh happy day, we had new steps, and this time, my feet did as they were told.  It has to be the best workout ever, and by the time we were fifty minutes in, I was on my last legs...literally.

And then the teachers showed us what was to be our last move in this particular routine.  The Big Finish.  The Final Triumph.  It was what they called 'aerial work' and was enough to strike fear in every man in that room.  But we had some run throughs on our own (don't ask me how it's helpful to do this on your own - surely the whole idea is that the leader heaves you up?)  It was then onto the real thing, with the next partner in the large circle. 

Now most of us tend to end up with a life partner who sort of fits in with our build/height.  Look at me and the husband.  He's is around 4" taller than me, which allows me to wear a heel if required, or to tuck myself in under his arm if I'm feeling a bit 'fluffy'.  There is no tiptoe stretching needed, nor do I need to develop a stoop on a night out for fear I may come over as an overpowering old bag.

However....my first male lead for the aerial work was 5' tall.  I'm not sure who looked more worried.  Me that he might drop me, or him thinking about how much his osteopath bills would be for the next six months.  But after several dummy runs, we did it, and I flew.... Well, jumped off the ground about 8" would be more accurate, but at least I landed on both feet, and even better was that they were mine and not his.

So yesterday, I made a commitment to my dance classes and invested in a pair of swing shoes.  I will never be seen dead in these outside of the church hall as they are shoes which put functionality before beauty (a bit like wellies).  They have a suede sole which means that they can't be worn outside and a most attractive elastic T-bar strap.  I am just hoping that the proper footwear will make the steps easier.   But you know, it'll be the clothes next. 

And that opens a whole new can of worms...

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